


Rosaries and Angel Dust

by RobinTheArtist



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Basically everything you're uncomfortable with, Drug Use, F/F, F/M, Gen, Homophobia, M/M, Religion, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-15
Updated: 2013-03-29
Packaged: 2017-12-05 08:57:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/721246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinTheArtist/pseuds/RobinTheArtist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look at the problems of religion, homophobia, and drug abuse in Texas, as writen by a Texan author. </p>
<p>Ever since you were young, you've known something was inherently wrong. Turns out, you were completely right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I got really tired of people overstating and understating homophobia and religious freakouts in Texas, and completely ignoring issues like drug abuse, alcoholism, and the fact that people can be dicks without being necessarily homophobic dicks. Texas is a strange state, and you really have to be here to connect with the issues. So, I plan to give a realistic view of Texas, using Dave Strider. Most of the events will be either events I have expierienced myself or is local news. 
> 
> Disclaimer: Characters used (ie Dave, Rose, etc.) belong to Andrew Hussie.

Ever since you were a little kid, standing on the playground, you've know there was something inherently wrong.

Your knuckles were bloody and bruised, tinting your too pale skin pink and purple. There was a bruise on your face from where one of the other kids swung at you. You came out on top of course. It's why your knuckles were a mess. But the other kid wouldn't shut up. He kept screaming that you're going to hell. Blood is gushing from his nose, his eye is black, and he's screaming that you are going to hell. 

That was you're introduction to religion. 

When Bro came to pick you up, he wasn't upset that you were in a fight. Everyone else on the playground said that the other kid pushed you first, and even the teacher had to agree. The other kid was a known bully, and had happened to be working his way towards expulsion. The teacher apologized, because your palms were bloody, your face and knuckles bruised, and your feelings marginally hurt.

"What's hell?" you asked Bro when you both reached the apartment. He paused, looking down at you. 

"Where'd you hear that lil dude?"

"He kept screaming that I was going to hell."

That's why, at eight years old, your Bro gives you the talk about religion. 

When he was done, you didn't know what to say. It didn't really make sense at the time. "Am I bad?"

"Nah, lil dude. Guy was just being a little dick. Sometimes, people use religion to justify being rude little shits. Don't listen to them."

 

It wasn't until you were twelve that you were reintroduced. Ironically, it's in another fight. 

"Fucking faggot! I hope you burn in fucking Hell you piece of shit."

The verbal assault isn't appreciated by the administrators. In fact, they let you off with a warning, because seriously, that guy was fucking insane. 

"Yo, Bro," he looked up from his computer at you, sitting on the couch with an AJ bottle pressed against your newly acquired black eye. "Some dude called me a faggot today. The shit that supposed to mean?"

Bro told you, and you whipped off your shades to give him a 'is that right' look. He nods. 

"That is complete bullshit. I should have punched him harder," you said, and Bro smirked. "He told me I was going to burn in Hell. Any relation?"

Yes indeed, he explained. 

"Well, that's fucking beautiful. Like, sunset on grassy meadows with a fucking chello beautiful."

Bro shrugs, and that's the end of the conversation. 

 

At fourteen, it came back. In a vastly different way than before.

"The fuck is SSA?"

"Student Secular Alliance," Rose explianed, looking over Dave's shoulder at the flier. A girl handed it to him during home room. Just walked up, heavy boots making ominous thuds on the tiles, tapped him on the shoulder, gave him the flier, and smiled with her bright red lips. Then she turned and walked off. 

"The fuck does that mean?"

"It's a club for mostly Atheist and Agnostic students," she replies, arching an eyebrow. 

"I'm not... Whatever the fuck you just said."

"It means you don't have a religion or don't conform to an established religion."

Oh. 

He talks to Bro about it after school. 

"Lil dude, I myself never focused on that religion stuff. It was like everyone was trying to sell me shitty girl scout cookies, but with gods. But you should explore, find out if you like the shitty girl scout cookies."

 

Your name is Dave Strider, and you are trying to see if you like the shitty girl scout cookies. 


	2. Chapter 2

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and the first time you heard your dad preaching was the first day you realized how fucked up life is. 

You were used to your dad acting weird. You didn't exactly understand why he always looked sad when he came back from Church on Sunday. You didn't know why he made sure you two never drank from the same glass and why his always smelled weird. You don't know why he started dating that new lady and why she hated you. 

By the time you turned twelve, you knew. Dad's an alcoholic with a passionless job, and his girlfriend hates you because you were a mistake. 

You always wondered why your friends talked about how old their parents are so old when your dad was just barely in his thirties. Now you know.

The irony of it all is that your dad is supposed to be this amazing pastor that everyone in the town respects. Probably because they don't know about his affair with the bottle and foray with a follower. But you do know, and you can't help but resent him for it. 

You hate going to Church on Sudays. Always have, because it's just your dad preaching a backlog of hate and judgment that you know for a fact he doesn't believe in. 

He wasn't always like this. When he started out, he was preaching love and acceptance, but he was turned away from every job with that mindset. So, he turned off the love and started saying what they wanted to hear. And everyone started listening. 

So your dad is stuck in a job he can't love, and every word that comes out of his mouth just makes you feel more disconnected. He used to tell you after every speech that it wasn't true. Some time in your thirteenth year, he stopped saying it. 

Which sucks, because he doesn't know how much you needed that. You could sit in the back of the Church and tune out three hours worth of sermons if he just reminded you that he doesn't mean it. But now, he just gives you this guilty look, and no matter how much you scream and curse, it would never be heard over the Earth shattering silence. 

That's when you decide that you're done with religion. It can't be a good thing if it did this to Dad. He can't go a week without opening a new bottle, he can't look you in the eye after service, he can't talk to you. 

You don't want any part of that. 

His girlfriend hangs onto every speech he gives. She's such a follower, if Dad told her to jump of a bridge she'd already be halfway down. And you hate her. 

Not like she cares, she hates you back. Because you're the mistake. The stupid little atheist albino freak. 

You don't think it's fair that she makes you hate yourself more than she ever could. 

 

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you don't think it's fair stupid bitches make you hate yourself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I like contrast. That's why this piece will seem like it's written by two different people. Karkat's chapters are going to be more direct and have a much different tone than Dave's because the entire point of me writing in second person is to write a slice-of-life piece from two very different characters perspective.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the club.

You end up going to that club, because why the fuck not? It seems like a good place to start. That's where you meet him. 

When you get to the door, the girl with the heavy boots and the bright red mouth greets you at the door. Actually paying attention, you notice how her hair has streaks of that same red color of her lips, maybe a little darker. She smiles, introducing herself as Aradia, and tells you to sit down. 

The meeting takes place in an empty math classroom. All the tables are pushed against the wall, and the tables are arranged in a loose circle. You sit down, looking at the handful of people. 

When your eyes fall on him, you pause. 

His hair is black, obviously dyed. His headphones are a light gray, and they stand out against the faux darkness of his hair. Which stands out more is the stark whiteness of his skin. Most of it is covered by his dark sweater, his hands folded civilly in his lap, but you can pick it out as similar to your skin tone. His eyes are closed, and he looks calm, relaxed. 

You know you're staring, but your shades cover it up, so you don't have to worry about it. But in a few minutes, Aradia is shutting the door and everyone sits down. The boy with the headphones takes them out, puts them in his backpack, and looks over at her. That's when you notice his eyes. 

His red eyes. 

You're glad you have your shades on to help you keep your composer, because if you were any less of a stoic badass you probably would have lost all your shit in one glorious table-flipping event, the likes of which no mere mortal can comprehend. 

"Alright, since this is the first meeting, let's introduce ourselves. I'm Aradia, I like paleontology and adventuring, and I'm Agnostic."

Several people go, following Aradia's model. You pay attention to the boy across from you specifically. 

"Karkat Vantas, I like hacking and movies. Atheist."

Two more people, and then it's your turn. 

"Dave Strider. Music and sword fights. I'm not really sure about what I am."

Aradia nods. "Questioning, maybe?"

"Yeah, I guess."

The circle goes on, and you feel someone staring at you. You look over to see headphone guy (he said Karkat right?) looking at you, appraising, as if you were a diamond ring or something. You shrug, and he looks away instantly, like you hit him. 

"Okay, that's everyone. So, lets talk about what we're doing here."

You barely pay attention to the rest of the meeting, though you get the idea. Your main focus is on Karkat, and how he keeps stealing glances at you throughout the meeting. 

Afterwards, as everyone's packing up, he approaches you. 

"Welcome to the club. You new or some shit?" he asks, quirking a brow. 

"Kinda. Never really paid attention to the whole religious shit. Exploring, ya know?"

He nods. "This isn't the place to go if you want to find a religion. That's kind of the whole fucking point."

You hold up your hands in surrender. "Just trying it out."

He shrugs. "Whatever. Just," he trails off, looking conflicted for a moment. "If you want to try the whole Catholic thing, my dad's a preacher, so I guess it's a good place to start."

You smirk. "How did the preacher's son become an Atheist?"

"Why do cop's daughters date gangsters?"

"Touché."

 

Your name is Dave Strider, and while day one of shitty girl scout cookies hasn't been a complete success, at least you made a new friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I don't want this to take on a life of it's own. Comment on what you want to happen and I may do it! (No promises, I'm a loose cannon)


End file.
